


Heavenly Bodies

by ihighlydoubtthat



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M, Met Gala, Smut, don't hate me for the Liz thing, it's a story calm down, spunk and champange, this turned out way longer than intended, tiny weeny bit of fluff hidden in there, zero plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 10:25:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14103327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihighlydoubtthat/pseuds/ihighlydoubtthat
Summary: A completely premature and overindulgent Met Gala fic which has zero plot and very little to do with the event. It's more of an excuse to have Timmy dressed in a brocade suit and covered in champagne. I did not intend it to be over 4k words but. There you go.Obvs fiction. As if I need to say that.Title taken from the 2018 Met Gala themeHeavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination.





	Heavenly Bodies

Timmy knew he should be more worried that Armie's clammy fingers were ruining the perfectly styled curls at the back of his head. But he wasn't. His mind, his mouth, his soul- preoccupied.

"Fuck, Tim.." Armie moaned quietly as he felt the head of his cock gently tap at the back of Timmy's throat. He watched as Timmy breathed deep through his nose- his lips swollen and stretched around the girth, slick with spit. He was throbbing painfully in the warm wetness of his mouth and had to look up at the roof of the vehicle to keep himself from coming. 

The deep breaths he struggled to keep quiet seemed to echo around them- the only other sound, a low, hungry moan that vibrated from Timmy's throat through his shaft and made the world disappear. It climbed up inside him, slowly massaging the stirrings of an unearthly orgasm.

He knew Timmy would have to swallow every drop- there was no way they could show up at the Met Gala with spunk emblazoned on their suits. He'd been holding back for what seemed like an age, but when Armie felt the tip of his cock squeeze into the narrow channel of Timmy's throat it was too much. He grabbed a handful of curls, letting out a stifled, guttural noise as he erupted. 

Timmy swallowed the excessive load, keeping him in his mouth for a minute before dizzily sitting up and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He looked over at Armie, blissfully leaning back in the seat, his chest rising and falling quickly with a broad smile plastered on his face. He'd done a good job. 

"Where the fuck did I find you," Armie muttered in wonder, closing his eyes and placing a hand over Timmy's in his lap. The suit he was wearing felt too tight- he'd give anything to be free of it but the night hadn't even began. He'd have to suffer with the thin layer of sweat slowly drying, and his cock still semi-hard inside it. 

"Crema..." Timmy replied with a beaming, grateful smile. He reached out and pulled Armie toward him by his lapels before kissing him- gently at first, then finding his tongue with his own, letting him taste the come that still coated the inside of his mouth with a thin film. A Welcome Drink would soon wash it away- the first few sips, a hedonistic mixture of expensive French champagne and Armie Hammer's semen. 

It made him feel powerful knowing that nobody else in the world would ever know that specific taste, or have those two delicacies mingle in their stomach. Not even his wife, who never let him come in her mouth, and she certainly didn't beg for it like Timmy did. She didn't ache to taste the spill of him on her tongue, or yearn for the euphoria on his face while taking it.

 

Armie told Timmy he was special. He assumed this was what he meant.

 

The driver announced their arrival at the venue through the blacked out partition. Thank fuck for tinted windows. They giggled while frantically trying to pull themselves together- Armie gently stuffing himself back into his suit trousers, Timmy combing through his curls with slender fingers. 

"See you on the other side," Armie whispered into Timmy's mouth, kissing him softly one last time before the door swung open and he watched him stepped out on the red carpet under a disco of camera flashes. He followed suit, straightening his jacket on the way out, trying desperately to look more suave than the post-climax giddiness would allow.

 

\--------------

They'd been separated early on- scooped up into different groups of people asking about their respective films and the occasional flurry of excitement about a sequel that was no where near production. 

Armie, mostly without realising, tried to keep Timmy within eyesight. He saw him swill the first sips of champagne around his mouth, curiously, and swallow it down. He watched other people put their hands all over his shoulders, the small of his back, his waist; seeming to touch for touchings sake. Who could blame any of them?

The theme for this year's Met Gala was _Heavenly Bodies: Fashion in the Catholic Imagination_ , and Timmy looked like a God damn angel. He'd chosen a slim fitting suit made from ivory brocade that hung sharply from his boyish frame. The soft youthfulness of his face, the way he tucked his buoyant curls behind one ear- the radiant smile he shone everyone regardless of whether he was pleased to see them or not. He was a celestial. 

Armie’s own outfit was classic in cut and deep, Renaissance red with satin lapels. Standing next to Timmy’s ivory form, they echoed the timeless accents of Vatican City- a far cry from the Italy they called their own. On his wrist hung a simple gold bracelet- flat plated and fasted with a delicate chain. Inscribed on the underside, forever pressing against the heat of his skin in secrecy, was the letter E. 

Armie wanted nothing more than to walk over to the kid, excuse him from his conversation and just _pick him up._ He couldn't, of course, and he wouldn't- but fuck, it was hard. His fingers ached to touch him and while he knew they were in the same room, concentrating on much else was hopeless. He grabbed another glass of champagne and knocked it back, remembering their conversation in the car. 

"Let's try to be friend's tonight, yeah? I mean, just friends. Like, don't smack my ass for a photo or anything..." Timmy had requested as gently as possible. They'd barely been together for five minutes but he had a good sense of the mood Armie was in. Firey, wreckless. 

"I don't know what you're insinuating, Mr. Chalamet..." he smiled cheekily and leaned in to Timmy, nuzzling at the hollow of his neck and breathing in the familiar smell. _God, just let me die here._

"I'm being serious Armie- you are fucking handsy when you're drunk." His eyes closed involuntarily, Armie's lips brushing against his jaw. He felt him smile, then hot breath press against his skin. "I don't really want to have to pay off a journo like last time."

He moved his mouth in small kisses, slowly up to Timmy's ear, the surrounding curls tickling his face. "What makes you think I'm going to get drunk, huh?" He moved a large hand slowly to cradle the side of Timmy's face- his fingers reaching up into thick hair, resting a thumb on his cheek. Timmy leant into the touch, desperately wanting to become lost in the moment but realising time was not on their side.

"Armie, stop..." sounded deafeningly like _You'll kill me if you stop._

"I don't know how I'm going to keep my hands off you..." Armies hot tongue tapped at his earlobe before pressing it between his lips, then teeth- causing Timmy's breath to hitch in his throat. "You look like a god damn fantasy and you know it."

 

He might not be drunk just yet, but he was getting there. He hadn't seen Timmy in almost an hour and it was making him anxious for no good reason. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, cursing the infernal need to determine Timmy's whereabouts, his phone lit up with a text.

 

T: _I'm pretty sure my face still smells like your cock_

 

Armie's heart swelled. It had been so long, and this kid still knew the exact things to say and do. He could read Armie like a book and play him like a fiddle- it was breathtaking. Scanning the room, he saw no sign of him and proceeded to beam into the light of the screen.

 

A: _I want the rest of you to smell like my cock..._

T: _I can see you._

T: _You're adorable with that smile on your face._

 

How the fuck? Armie tried not to look ridiculous as he re-scanned. A sea of people, and none of them as beautiful as Timmy. None of them calling to him like a beacon. He couldn't be that close. 

 

A: _Where are you??_

T: _Want to know a secret?_

A: _Always_

T: _I'm really fucking hard for you right now, Armie. I want you to feel it._

A: _God, Tim- I want to. FUck. Tell me where you are_

T: _I want your huge hand wrapped around it_

T: _Your mouth_

A: _WHERE ARE YOU_

A: _I swear to God, T_

_[Picture: the main hall taken from outside the window at the far end of the dancefloor, Armie is clearly visible]_

T: _Take me home, Armie. I'll be good._

 

A dizzying pang of lust hit low in his stomach and without second thought he strode toward the exit, mentally mapping the distance to his hotel. 

\--------------------------------------

He kicked the door shut with his foot and backed Timmy up into it in one fluid motion. A large hand pressed against his chest, covering almost the entire width- Timmy’s heartbeat thudding heavily under his palm. He still hadn't gotten over how delicate Timmy was, after all this time and knew only that it did something indescribable to him. An amalgamation of intoxicating dominance and overwhelming protection that elevated sheer existence in his company. Before Timmy, he hadn't known the feeling of needing to destroy something just as badly as wanting to piece it back together with every thread of his being, giving away part of himself in the process until the fibers Timmy was made from were more Armie than himself. 

With one hand holding Timmy's face, he allowed the other to travel haltingly from his chest to his ribs- his fingers resting in the shallows for a moment before sliding lower and reaching around to cup the tender curve of his ass cheek; pulling his hips away from the door and into his own. 

"Oh god..." Timmy drawled against Armie's lips as their hips pressed together. "You're so hard." The friction of his own cock against Armie's electrified him and he ground harder, slowly, aching for more with each motion. The wool of Armie's suit trousers hitched slightly against the brocade of his, pulling the fabric tight in places, highlighting his sensitivity. 

He urged Armie closer still by his waistband and bit gently on his lower lip, tasting the champange and the cigarettes from earlier, running his tongue softly over the fullest part. He reached it into Armie's mouth and found his own, caressing it, feeling the blood rush south with every second. 

"Armie.." he moaned into his mouth, their lips barely apart. "I need you to touch me." 

He was met with a returning moan and a hand dug into the mop of curls on his head- pulling it to one side, allowing access to the milky channel of his neck. Armie ran his tongue slowly over Timmy's Adam's apple and felt it move beneath it with a gulp. He dragged his lips languidly up to meet his ear, purposefully exhaling so that his breath fell hot and close on his skin and Timmy would hear the quiet click of spit as he whispered. 

"What do you say..?"

Timmy closed his eyes and melted at the upper-hand of Armie's voice. He was asking him to beg, although he didn't need to. A lustful implore was already dripping from the tip of his tongue. "-Please... fuck, Armie. Please."

Armie lived for these moments where Timmy needed him like oxygen- needed him to provide the special kind of comfort that only he could. Every time he pleaded with him, Armie's stomach filled with butterflies and his heart swelled to bursting because this pressure, this boiling pot of want and need, the sentiment that shouted _My body is yours, do whatever you want to it_ \- was love. 

"I am touching you.." he smiled against Timmy's neck, knowing the frustration he was inducing. To prove his point, he clawed Timmy's ass cheek harder then slid his hand back round and up over the flat pane of his stomach. He felt him squirm and breathe deeper, letting a discontented sound escape his throat. 

"I need more... please. I need skin. I-" 

Armie was positively throbbing by this point and had to pull his hips away from Timmy's to stop the friction ending him too soon. He brought their mouths together into a kiss where their lips hung open, breathing heavily into one another, and grabbed at the front of Timmy's shirt. He began walking backwards, pulling him as they kissed, towards a leather chaise longue he saw in the reflection of a giant mirror that covered one wall. 

It occurred to him that he hadn't even looked around the room. He'd been so tied up in Timmy's body, he'd failed to notice that the room his agent had booked was probably the most exuberant he'd ever seen. The mirror he'd just glanced in took up almost an entire wall, surrounded with a thick gold frame that matched the accents of a curtained four-poster bed. At the bottom of it, a chesterfield chaise longue- tall at one end with bottle of champagne resting in an ice bucket alongside.

He let go of Timmy and silently reached behind him, grabbing the cold bottle- skillfully uncorking it in a matter of seconds. 

"Open." He ran his broad thumb over Timmy's lower lip, pulling it gently, tilting the opening between obliging lips. The clear bubbling liquid expanded quickly, spilling over from the confines of his mouth and dribbled on to his chin. Armie quickly brought is mouth to lap away the overflow, sucking softly at his skin.

Physically trembling with want, Timmy grabbed at Armie and pulled him into a deep, breathy kiss- his lips shaking as he silently pleaded for Armie’s body with his own, his cock pulsating wildly on feeling the huge shaft up against it. 

Without breaking the kiss, he moved his slender fingers to unbutton Armie's trousers, then lower the zip gently- feeling him strain against the fabric of his underwear. Armie passed a low grown into Timmy's mouth and closed his eyes as his fingers slid inside the waistband and gently stroked his throbbing erection. 

"Fuck... Tim," he began, feeling the blood rush but removed the hand and sank to his knees, unbuttoning Timmy's trousers- sliding them down over creamy thighs, exposing the unbelievably hard length of him. With a satisfied grunt, he guided Timmy to sit down on the chaise longue, removing his shoes, trousers and underwear- paying no attention to his socks. 

As Armie brought his mouth to the head of his cock, Timmy closed his eyes and leaned back onto his elbows, letting the heat wash over him. He prayed that Armie would be gentle- he wouldn't last long and although the need for relief was already agonising, he lived for these moments. Armie was going slowly but as he brought his tongue to press the underside and take more in, Timmy shuddered and dug his hands into his hair, holding his head still.

"God, Armie, I-"

"Tim, try and relax. You've got this." He shone him an affectionate smile and watched Timmy take a deep breath and a moment to gather himself. "Good boy." 

He reached up for the bottle of champagne and sitting on his heels, took a small mouthful in- holding the liquid in his mouth. Timmy's eyes searched his inquisitively as he watched Armie bring his mouth back to the head of his cock and with the champagne still in inside, parted his glistening lips just enough to take Timmy in. The slicked hotness of the inside of his lips paired the unexpected gush of bubbling liquid coaxed out an unholy moan. The width of his cock pushed the champagne out around it so that it spilled from Armie's mouth, coating the entire length of him and drenching the downy hair at it's base.

“Fuck, Armie..” he struggled. “What the fuck..”

Armie didn’t make a sound, and proceeded to suck and lick at Timmy’s aching shaft- now glistening thickly with a mixture of champagne, pre-come and saliva. He moved slowly, relishing the taste- wanting to go deeper, faster, but holding back for the sake of not tipping him over the edge. 

Timmy could see himself in the mirror, opposite. The room was dark but he made out his curls, the side of his face highlighted by moonlight, and his feet, now dangling over Armie's broad shoulders. He watched Armie's head rise and fall between his legs- still fully dressed, as if this wasn't his room and was expecting to leave any minute. 

With his lips still wrapped around the tip of Timmy's cock, Armie moved two slicked fingers to tease his entrance. Slowly at first, drinking in the sound of Timmy's gasp. Hands dug into his hair, gripping harder as he entered.

"F-fuck.."

"Is this okay?" Armie mumbled, looking up to check and saw a frantic, desperate nod in response. What he wanted was to take Timmy apart. First this his mouth, then his hands, then his cock. To take him to that place he knew he needed to be- that he could only reach with Armie. Where he spoke in tongues and lost control off every part of himself- feeling so whole again when it was over that it was practically an addiction.

Armie retrieved the small bottle of lube from his pocket, grateful for having had the foresight to put it there because he simply never knew what would happen when he was with Timmy, and liberally coated his fingers. 

He circled the tight ring of muscle, desperate to just push three fingers inside his pliant body but knowing he couldn't, and slid just one gently inside him. 

"Oh my god..." Timmy was still for a moment, trying to relax, before succumbing to the pleasure and rocking himself slowly. With every small motion, his hips bucked slightly, shoving his cock further into Armie's mouth. 

"More. Please." Timmy groaned, barely audible- maybe a little scared of what he'd get because he could have come the second Armie breached him. 

Armie dutifully responded with a second finger- working him open slowly. He knew by now that Timmy wasn't quite as fragile as he looked and that he somehow, God only knows how, could stretch to take the girth of his cock with little trouble. The thought made Armie's head spin and he teased Timmy's hole with a third.

The sound Timmy made echoed through the room. A cry that firstly caused Armie to pause but then decended into a gasp and low moan, awash with pleasure. He pushed himself further onto Armie's fingers, urging him deeper.

"Do not make yourself come, Timothee." His voice was stern. "I know you want it, I know. I'm going to give it to you, I promise." 

Timmy's look was pained- his whole body ached for release, but he trusted Armie. He stopped rocking and distracted himself for a moment by wrestling off the jacket he was still wearing, throwing it over Armie's head onto the floor. He rolled up the sleeves on his shirt, one after the other, and unbuttoned it down halfway to let the air cool him. 

 

Resting back down on his elbows, he shook the curls from his face as Armie very slowly withdrew and stood up. He looked down at Timmy, legs splayed, cock agonisingly hard and still glistening in the moonlight from its layer of spit and champagne. The white shirt and socks that did absolutely nothing to hide his modesty. The glimmering gold bracelet with its engraved O hidden on the underside, that sang _I belong to you, in silence._

 _I am the luckiest man alive._

Armie began to undress- removing everything below the waist, letting his dripping cock finally spring free. He undid the buttons of his shirt but left his suit jacket on, and taking Timmy by the hands, pulled him up from the seat. 

"What you are thinking?" he grinned, kissing Timmy softly.

"That I want you inside me, Armie." He moved his hips slightly, pressing their hardness together, remembering how good it felt to be wide open and full of him, complete. "All of you."

The words alone made Armie's cock twitch and leak a little more. This was not the time to play games, he realised- as much as he wanted to wind Timmy up he was sure he wouldn't last enough to give him what he needed. 

So he turned and lay on the chaise longue, his back against the headrest, propping him half upright. He needed to say nothing- Timmy dutifully climbed on top, straddling his stomach, letting Armie's cock rest against the crevice between his cheeks. The head of his own brushed against Armie's stomach as he lifted himself and fell slowly, his crease rubbing against the huge erection teasingly.

Armie looked over at their reflection in quiet worship. The purposful curve in Timmy's back caused his shirt to hitch up on top of his pale, rounded ass, and he clearly saw the shape of his cock, standing tall and thick to the very top of Timmy's cleft. It made him giddy seeing it in proportion to the boy on top of him, knowing that he could, and would, take the entire length inside himself.

He reached around and palmed himself with a generous amount of lube, careful not to overstimulate; rubbing the excess with the tips of his fingers into Timmy's opening, allowing one to venture inside teasingly and received a desperate moan in return.

"You really want it, don't you?" Armie did't need to ask but he liked to hear Timmy's _pleases_ and _thank you's._

Timmy was nodding, digging his fingernails into the man's chest beneath his jacket. "Yes, please... god yes." His pleading was more breath than words as he lifted himself to bring the head of Armie's cock where he needed it. He brought his slender fingers back to pull apart his cheeks, his shirt bunched up over the curve of his ass, and noticed Armie watching him do so in the mirror.

"Pervert," he teased and pressed himself down over the tip, gasping and watching Armie's head fall back. "You chose this room on purpose, didn't you?" He continued to work down, pushing the temporary discomfort to one side- focusing only on Armie's face and the anticipation he found there. 

"No.. I didn't... book it... Timmy, fuck-" He looked up at Timmy as he slid further down and placed encouraging hands on his hips. "Slow, slow." 

Gently accommodating the size of him, Timmy rested his arms over Armie's shoulders and brought their mouths together in a hot, languid kiss punctuated with stuttering gasps as the discomfort gave way to the pleasure he'd be waiting for. He began to move fluidly, riding the entire length and feeling his own cock leak in front of him. 

"I wish you could be inside me forever," he whispered against Armie's lips, breathing in his breath, letting him slide his large hands to cup the entirety of his ass and gain control. 

"Timmy you have no idea how good this feels right now. Let go of your weight." Timmy obediently stopped riding and let his body weight fall into Armie's grasp. 

In slow, deep motions, Armie lifted Timmy to the end of his cock then let him fall almost to the base before raising him again- his biceps burning but spurred on by how hard he throbbed with the drag of tightness around him. He felt Timmy's body stiffen slightly and his hands clamp the muscles of his shoulders.

"Oh my god... Armie, you're gonna make me come..."

Armie continued fucking Timmy's body on his cock at his leisure, slowly gaining force until he slapping of skin created a percussion between their moans. He was close too, his balls drawing tight, the sight of Timmy riding him in that fucking shirt with all that hair and those ungodly lips-

"Tim," he spoke, louder than intended but fitting the eruption he felt brewing like a warning. "Tim I-"

"I want you to come inside me.." his eyes fixed on Armie, watching his tongue move between open lips to speak, to retort. "Please," he moaned. 

Without chance to consider, Armie's body buckled, giving way to a shattering orgasm that ripped through him like fire, blurring his vision and forcing out a gutteral cry. Timmy had gotten his wish and simultaneously came, shooting on Armie's stomach, moaning loudly in his ear as he ground down further to prolong the euphoria of having the massive, throbbing shaft expel itself inside him. 

"Fuck-k-k" Armies shuddering body slowly stilled as he wrapped his arms around Timmy, pulling him into his chest. He was undone, breathing deep and making tiny noises from the core of his throat. 

 

Timmy's shirt was now clinging to him with sweat, as were his once buoyant curls. He remained seated on Armie, keeping his come inside- swimming in the transcendent fulfillment he didn't dare try to look for in anyone else. 

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

Armie pressed his lips to the top of Timmy's head and stroked his hair- breathing in the scent with a happy smile. He may only have him in silence, in the stolen time they pulled from the fabric of their lives, but it worked and it was theirs. 

"You didn't think I was actually going to let you leave, did you?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the hideous formatting of that text conversation.
> 
> You can find me hanging out on[Tumblr](https://c-u-at-midnight.tumblr.com/)


End file.
